


Twelve months and one week

by madeinfrance



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: F/M, i hope you like it anyway, post-season 3, this did got really long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeinfrance/pseuds/madeinfrance
Summary: Or the year following everything.Nadia x Guzmán, post-season 3.
Relationships: Guzmán Nunier Osuna/Nadia Shana
Comments: 6
Kudos: 154





	Twelve months and one week

**1.** _“I promise I’ll come back for you.”_

And really, that’s not what he’s trying to make her say.

In fact, he’s been very careful about the words he used himself, because he doesn’t want to do that - he doesn’t want to be a burden to her. Never.

She’d fought for this, she’d won Columbia all alone, and now, the world is at her feet, and it will only take seconds for it to see just amazing she is.

Because God, how she is.

A whole new life is waiting for her, away from all the horrors that have taken place and freed from everything that’s always been standing in her way, and there’s no way he’ll slow her down with promises.

It kills him, of course - it kills to think of days where he won’t be able to see her face, hear her laugh.

It makes him sick to imagine the weeks where she’ll be building a new reality he won’t be a part of, while he’ll still be holding on to the memories and the what could have beens.

It breaks his heart, really, to realize that in a few months, a few years, he may only be a guy she loved back in high school, when he knows she’ll always be it for him.

He’s aware of how naive this may seem.

But he does know she’s it.

So no: when he leaves her his voice note, Guzmán doesn’t expect anything from her, because she doesn’t owe him anything.

But, as usual, she takes him by surprise, and despite what he promised himself, he can feel his heart ache and grow with love and, well - hope.

He swore not to let that happen, but here he is - fighting his stupid tears, full of damn hope because he can hear her tears, too, and because they both know that she doesn’t make promise she doesn’t intend on keeping.

“Guzmán.”

Ander’s voice brings him back to reality. One look at his beaming face, and the crushing relief that settles on his chest suddenly opens the gates, and just like that, he’s crying in a fucking hospital hall.

* * *

**2.** They’re in Greece for the summer.

It’s weird, being in a family vacation just the three of them. He misses Marina even more, somehow.

He thinks they do, too.

His parents insisted they take that trip, and franckly, a part of him had been terrified, but ultimately, it’s a good thing. They kept saying that he needed a break after everything that happened with and to Polo, specially so close after they lost her, and he knew it was true.

But he also knew that they needed it, too. Needed to get away from it all, if only for a while, and he couldn’t refuse them that.

Of course, it’d be a lie to say he hadn’t resent them.

His father, for obvious reasons he’d never fully forget. His mother, for the way she handled it sometimes. He still remembered the silences full of despair echoing through the house, that first summer after her death, the days filled with too much wine. He still remembered having to turn to Lu’s arms, because he was afraid if he turned to his mother’s, she’d break down.

But he knows she tried, did at best as she could, for him. She still does. Besides, he was never really mad at her, anyway. His anger just needed as many things and as many people to focus on, because otherwise it’d would have swallowed him whole.

It almost did, had it not been for a certain someone.

Now is time to move forward, though, past himself, past his personnal pain. He’s glad they’re here. They need that time together, as painful as it still is, sometimes.

It will always be, but he figures that doesn’t mean he has to stop trying to be a good son. On the contrary, really.

So, they let him spend some time with his friends, and then, they’re on their way. Ander even agrees to come with them for a week before he goes back to Omar, and it’s good, having him back. Really good.

When he comes back to the house that morning, all his muscles strained from his swim, his father is nowhere to be seen, most likely handling business in a corner.

He smiles at the sight of her.

Dropping a kiss to her cheek, Guzmán settles heavy on the couch next to his mother, sents a cushion on her lap and settles his head on it with a sigh.

“I thought that movie was meant to be watched in winter.”

“It’s always time for a classic, honey.”

“Yeah, let’s not use that word wrong,” and he chuckles as she jokingly pulls on his ear.

“Don’t insult _Love Actually,_ boy, or you’ll regret it. Richard Curtis is a treasure.”

Guzmán makes sure his snort is loud enough to express all he thinks of that waste of film. “Besides, you should learn to like it: maybe your next girlfriend will be as fond of it as I am.”

He rolls his eyes. “How subtle, Mom.”

“What? I’m just being realistic: when you get back at school, girls will most likely throw themself at you, and you’ll like one of them, and she’ll probably _love_ Colin Firth, because that’s just the way things are,” and he can’t help but laugh now.

“Sorry to disappoint, but there will be no girlfriend for you to bond over romcoms with.”

“Oh come on, _mi amor_ : I know your break-up with Lu was hard, but you’ll find someone else.”

With a quick brush of her lips to his forehead, her attention is back on the television. And really, he could leave it at that.

He’s surprised to realize that he doesn’t want to.

“It wasn’t.”

“What?”

“The break-up - it wasn’t hard. I didn’t love Lu, I never did. Not like that, anyway,” and he feels her eyes coming back to his face.

He takes a small breath before looking back at her. “There is a girl, though.”

“Oh. Do - do I know her?”

“No. I mean, you’ve probably seen her at some point. She’s one of the students that got Dad’s scholarship. _And_ the one Lu mentioned in her charming speech at the fake charity gala, actually.” Guzmán has to smile at the way she’s taken aback. “Yeah, I know: unexpected.”

His mother just shrugs. “Interesting,” and they both know that a couple of months ago, learning that he prefered a girl from a class inferior to theirs to the wonderful Lucrecia Montesinos Hendrich would have made her wince so hard, it would have hurt her face.

He knows she’s trying to be better - as a mother, as a person. For him.

“Come on, then - tell me about her.”

“Well, she’s super smart,” he starts. “And very competitive. But she’s also very kind, gentle. With a sense of duty and self-sacrifice that I’ve never seen before.”

One that stood between them for so long, he hated it, sometimes. “She used to help out her parents a lot at their family store during the school year,” he simply says instead. “She wants to work at the United Nations, and she will. She calls me out on my bullshit. She has the most beautiful smile you’ll ever see.”

A smile he already misses way too much.

“And she got the Columbia scholarship - and shared it with Lu, by the way - so now she’s in New-York too, and well - that’s great,” and he can feel it - hears it in his own voice.

But he just smiles up at his mother, swallowing down the pain. “She’s finally where she’s supposed to be, you know? There’s nothing standing between her and her dreams now. I just - I guess I just miss her, that’s all.”

He can feel the soothing motion of his mother’s fingers in his hair, just like when he was little, and suddenly there’s a lump in his throat, and just like that, it’s all a bit too much.

“ _Cariño_...If you wanted to go to spend the summer with your girlfriend, you should have told us: of course we would have let you go, maybe we could still -”

Straigtening up on the couch, Guzmán shakes his head. “No, no - she has a lot to do there. And I wanted to stay here. I wanted to spend some time with Ander - and with you guys,” he smiles, a hand on her knee. Then, scoffs.

“Besides, she’s never been my girlfriend. Her parents didn’t approve of me,” he continues at her questioning eyes. “And then...Then something happened, and I don’t know - there was always something, I guess.”

She nods, taking it all in. “I see. And do you still talk to her now?”

“I do.” Guzmán tries to ignore the warm sensation underneath his skin.

Despite her parting words, he hadn’t planned on texting or calling too often, using the excuse that she’d probably be busy settling in, anyway. The look Ander and Samu gave him when he had told them that made it quite clear that they both knew it was bullshit.

But she - she did.

She let him know when she landed, told him how surreal New-York was, and after that, well, they just kept talking.

He was way to weak to stop it if she didn’t.

“She’s sharing a dorm with Lu, so good luck to her,” he mocks, bringing himself back to reality, and his mother playfully slaps his shoulder. “The campus looks great, and of course she’s already started going through some books, and now she’s looking for a job.”

Looking through his phone, he finally found what he’s looking for. “Here, that’s their room.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me, _mi hijo_ ,” she says softly, her eyes leaving the small screen to look at him. “And I also know that everything’s possible,” she adds, looking straight into his eyes. Then, rolls her eyes at herself. “As cliché as it sounds, I know. So, what’s her name?”

“Nadia,” he answers, the smile now back on his face. “Her name’s Nadia.”

* * *

**3.** It feels good, being back.

He’s glad to arrive with Samuel, because damn, none of the faces look familiar, but then there’s Rebeka, and Omar, and Ander, and he figures things should be alright.

 _“That’s good,”_ she says, beaming, when he tells her about his first day. _“That’s a good thing.”_

“It does suck a bit that I can’t look at you during classes anymore, though.” He says it to make her blush - which it does - but it’s still very, very true.

Despite the Skypes and the texts and the calls, it’s definitely not the same as having her here for real.

Nadia rolls her eyes. _“How romantic, Romeo,”_ but her cheeks are pink and she’s trying to hide her grin. To her credit, she’s getting slightly better at pretending, though.

“How about you - how was that first college party last night?”

 _“It wasn’t really a party,”_ she shrugs. _“But it was nice - people are cool.”_ Then, there’s a smile, and a look. _“I think Lu’s in love,”_ and he laughs.

“Oh, already. Who’s the lucky guy?

 _“A charming French boy straight out of Lyon - his name’s Fabien,”_ and the objet of their conversation must have walked in in that precise moment, because suddenly he can hear the long, dramatic offended sigh of Lu in the background.

 _“Oh please - for the hundredth time, there’s_ nothing _to tell, okay?”_

“Well, that’s not what I hear,” he mocks, and Nadia’s laughing now. “So tell me, what was it that provoked love at first sight?”

Lu’s face pops up behind Nadia, a sarcastic smile on and a middle finger very much up.

 _“Hi Guzmán - go to hell,”_ and then she’s mumbling something about getting her purse, and he’s laughing.

“Oh my God, you really are smitten, aren’t you? Come on Nadia, send me his profile.”

 _“Do that, and I swear I’ll murder you in your sleep,”_ and then there’s a door closing, and wow, are they going to have fun with that.

“Alright, your turn - are you in love with more of your teachers lately, or is it still the one?"

Her eyes light up at the mention of, quote, her 'lifetime hero and dream mentor,' and just like that, she goes off excitedly about her last class of International Relations, and what she’s thinking of doing for her first major essay.

Guzmán is more than happy to listen.

* * *

**4.** He starts having sleepovers with Ander every week.

He’s afraid, at first - of all the memories, of what those reunions will inevitably bring them back to.

But quickly, very quickly, all of that fades away to the background, and it’s just him and his best friend, trying to make the most of their time together before next year, when there’s a good chance they won’t be together anymore. Not like they’ve been for the past seventeen years, at least - he’ll be damned if ever stops talking with that idiot.

It’s about reconnection, too. He missed him, he really did.

Anders insists on explaining his reaction to learning Polo’s secret to him, and even if at no point, his friend tries to make excuses for himself, it pisses him off. But the butthead won’t let it go, 'because I have to say it, Guzmán, and there’s no way I’ll leave it at you forgiving me just because I had cancer. I’m not a charity case, _cabrón.'_

And so, he listens. And, as time goes on, he listens about his life with Omar, and how cancer messed with his head, and his parents’ divorce, and his doubts about the future.

In return, Ander listens about Marina, about the anger that burnt inside his chest and that he came to fear, about how lonely it can feel at home without his sister, about Nadia.

It feels so good, being able to tell him all of that, and hear his friend.

They work harder than they probably ever did. They all do, in fact, a lot of time together.

Rebeka, because she wants to succeed her own way, the right way. Samu, because he wants to take control of his life. Omar, because everything’s finally going his way, and he’s not about to let it go to waste. Ander, because he's determined to go after the life he wants and was afraid he’d lost, and enjoy it.

Guzmán, because he wants to build something, and save himself.

His father notices, taking him by surprise by complementing him at diner one night. His mother smiles, a real smile.

Sometimes, he’s even proud of himself.

Even more so, of course, when he catches Nadia smiling as she looks at him during the Skype sessions where they work together, or when she tells him how happy she is to see him so driven.

Man, do the freaking butterflies in his stomach go wild that night. He’s way, way too far gone.

Which is exactly what Ander says with a smirk when Guzmán tells him about his job.

Yusef had been surprised to see him come back to the shop after the summer. The look on his face was almost comical, really.

Guzmán had simply shrugged. “With Nadia gone, I figured you’d still need someone to cover for her.”

He’d seen her mother Imán smile in the back of the room, and then Yusef handed him his apron, and that was that.

The next day, Omar greeted him with a lovely 'so you really are not an complete asshole,' and he punched his shoudler hard enough to shut him up.

He was pretty sure he’d mentionned it to her, until that text mid-October.

It’s the middle of the night, and he opens it up with a grunt, the light attacking his eyes like a bitch.

_‘i can’t believe you’_

_‘my father will find an excuse to strangle you at some point, you know’  
_

_‘i doubt omar will fight for you, you’ve been warned’_

He’s still smiling when, a minute later, a last text pops up.

_‘i love you’_

* * *

**5.** It’s been five months since she left, and, really, it’s hell.

Of course, things are good otherwise, really good even. School. His friends. His parents. Swimming. Therapy.

And they’re always talking, and he gets to see her, hear about her day, but still - it _hurts_ , not having her here.

It hurst, and it sucks, and he’s sick of it, and today it’s been one and a half year since Marina died and he’s tired.

He gets so tired, sometimes.

After training, he heads to his room right away. He must have become pretty predictable, because ten minutes later, his laptop lights up.

His heart aches a little at her bright smile on his screen, but he closes it anyway.

When he comes out of the shower, his mom’s at the door. “Hi, honey. Lunch’s ready.” Dropping her gaze, he shakes his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“Dr Jimenez said you canceled your meeting this afternoon.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll postpone it - it’s fine.” 

“I didn’t hear you talk to Nadia, either,” and he sighs, annoyed now

“Yeah, well, we’re not always stuck to our phones, Mom. Can you leave now, please? I swam all morning, I just want to chill a bit.”

For a few seconds, neither of them says anything. He thinks she’s going to insist, but instead, she comes to drop a kiss to his forehead, lingering just a little.

“I know you get tired, honey. And I know everything will never be completely fine - not really. But I promise, it’ll get a little less worse - one day at a time.”

He couldn’t answer even if he wanted to, because his voice’s stuck in his throat now, and God damn it, he’s sick of it.

He doesn’t really expect her next words. “Lu is going to call you soon,” and he frowns. “Try to pick up if you can - it’s important.”

With that, she leaves, and he’s grateful. He’ll apologize later, even if she’ll say he doesn’t need to. Right, now he just - can’t.

He needs to get out of his head, anything not to think. Before he can decide against it, he’s out the door and on his way to the shop.

Omar doesn’t ask, and just give him his place at the register, but the look on his face makes it sure that Ander will know he’s been here.

When he gets down an hour later, Yusef looks at him for a second, but doesn’t say anything. He silently hands him a list of a couple of things that need to be done, and then he’s gone.

Imán brings him tea.

When he thanks her, she puts a gentle hand on his cheek, catching him off guard. “It’s good for heartaches,” and he almost starts crying right here between the apples and fucking avocados.

When he comes back home at the end of the afternoon, he’s barely two steps inside when his mother hands him her phone. His eyeroll is more for show than anything else.

“Hello?”

_“Well hello to you too, sunshine. So what’s with the dodging calls today? I have to ring Laura to get you now?”_ ~~  
~~

“I didn’t dodge your calls - I was out, and I forgot my phone.”

 _“Yeah, because that’s something people our age often do: not check for our phones before going out,”_ and this time, his eyeroll is real. 

Sometimes, he almost forgets what a pain she can be, when she's put her mind into it.

“So, what’s up Lu?”

 _“A lots of things, really, but right now I’m heading for a study group session and I don’t have time, so let’s get to the point,”_ and he has to smile.

“Alright, let’s.”

_“You’re coming to New-York next month.”_

Heavyly dropping on his back on his bed, Guzmán nods. “Right. And remind me, will I be meeting with the President directly, or is he too busy?”

 _“The thing is,”_ she continues, royally ignoring him, “ _Nadia’s parents can’t really afford back and forth tickets, so as you’ll probably know despite pretending_ not _dying to ask the question, Nadia will be coming back home next summer, and not at Christmas break just for two weeks.”_

She’s right, of course. For days, he’d been looking to any clue she might drop regarding her potential return for the holidays, not wanting to bring the subject up himself.

He can feel his heart beat a little faster now, but Guzmán doesn’t say anything.

 _“So, she’ll be staying here, and as I’m still temporarily broke, I thought as a Christmas present, I’ll organize her a surprise holiday break with her other half,”_ and wow, he’s panicking a little now.

 _“I’ve already talked to your parents,”_ she says before he can argue, “ _and they’re totally cool with it - tickets and hotel room to the big Apple as your Christmas present, lucky you. Given the school calendar and our exams here, it will only be a couple of weeks, but that’s still something, right? So, when does the school close again? We should look for the tickets right away.”_

“Lu -”

_“Yes, I know - I’m amazing. But we’ll praise me later: when?”_

“No, that’s not it. I just - I’m not sure -”

_“Guzmán, she wants to see you, okay?”_

Not that he’d ever admit it, but it’s scary, how well she can read him sometimes, even from afar. _“And I know you don’t want to impose or intrude, and you’re afraid to be a burden in her new life or some shit like that, but you’re not. I see her every day, I freaking share a room with her, she’s my friend, and I’m telling you - get your ass over here, because she misses you.”  
_

It takes him a few seconds - it’s taken him five months, really - but eventually, he admits it.

“I just don’t want to be the guy she feels the need to still talk to even if what she really wants to do is move on with her new life, you know?”

 _“I know. And you’re an idiot for thinking you’re that guy,”_ but her voice is gentle, and he even manages a laugh despite his chest tightening.

“Wow, what a pep talk, Lu. Want to add some other insults in there?”

_“I would, but as I’ve said, I have a session starting in ten minutes, so I can’t spare that pleasure. So: what does that freaking high school close for Christmas break?”_

When he finally gets to his phone that night, hidden somewhere in his sheets, he’s got a couple of texts from Ander and Samu, and the group chat is anormally full with funny memes he knows are only here for him.

And, as he probably should have expected, there’s also a voice note from Nadia.

_“Hi Guzmán. I tried to call you, but I guess you were busy. Well, most likely not in a mood to talk, which I get. But I just wanted to say...I know what day it is, and even if I certainly don’t know how that must feel like, I’m here if you need me, okay? And it’s not like I could ever make any of it better, of course, but..I really wish I was with you right now.”_

Suddenly, there’s a noice somewhere next to her, and the heaviness of the moment is broken as she babbles rapidly. _“Shit, I’ve spilled tea everywhere, and - Okay, there’s some on Lu’s Louboutins, which means I’ll probably die if I don’t clean this up in the next minute,”_ she chuckles, and he does, too.

_“Alright, talk later - bye.”_

The next day, Guzmán has his tickets.

* * *

**6.** He’s been in New-York before, but never in winter, and fuck, it’s _cold_.

 _“Afraid some things might look smaller in these freazing temperatures?”_ Guzmán can see the sneaky smile of the little fucker from here.

“Oh, what an original joke - thank you for blessing us of it, man,” and Ander just chuckles, proud of himself.

_“So, how is it supposed to go now?”_

“Well, I think I’ll be at the hotel by 8pm,” Guzmán answers, looking out to the city passing by before his eyes. “And then Lu’s supposed to arrive with Nadia at 9pm.”

_“Nervous?”_

“No,” he answers, too rapidly. Again, he winces as he can hear Ander’s smile. “A little.”

_“Relax, man - it’ll be fine. I mean, she’s nice, so even if she’s not happy to see you, I’m sure she’ll try to cover it up as best as she can.”_

“Alright, that’s enough of you - talk later, asshole.”

The cab arrives at the hotel fifteen minutes later than planned, and even when he’s checked in and got his stuff out of his suitcase just for something to do, there’s still agonizing minutes left. He’s not sure what to do with himself, so he’s just there, pacing, praying not to die from a panic attack in a NYC hotel room.

He knows he’s being stupid, of course.

It’s her. Things have always been easy, when it comes to her.

He’s almost calmed down when Lu texts him that they’re downstairs, and then his heart’s going wild.

_Fuck._

He hears her before he sees her, and then the door opens, and here she is.

_Finally._

It’s been six months, and finally, she’s here, just in front of him...blinded with a pink thingie that can only be Lu’s.

“I’m just saying,” and the sound of her voice sends shivers down his freaking arms."If you wanted to kill me so bad, I’m sure there was an easier way to do it.”

Lu looks up at him, her smile wide, and he can’t help his own at the sight of his friend.

“You know, I really wasn’t planning on killing you, but one more question and I think I’ll let myself be convinced,” and Nadia just snorts.

“You do know I’m Muslim _and_ that you’re way too early for your present anyway, right? If you insist on Christmas, just drop your present on my bed on the _actual_ day next time - that will be fine too, I promise.”

Turning Nadia so she’s facing her, her back to Guzmán, Lu finally takes the blind off her eyes. “I’ll think about it.” With a proud, sneaky smile, she winks at her friend. “Surprise, _cariño._ ”

And, with that, she turns Nadia back around, and just like that, she’s looking right at him, shock written all over her face and words she seems to have forgotten dying on her opened lips.

“Alright, see you later, lovers!”

The door closes, and Guzmán remembers how to breathe, eyes somehow glued to hers. He can almost hear her brain trying to make sense of what she’s seeing.

He’d make fun of her, if only he wasn’t in the exact same situation.

“You know,” he finally manages, “if tradition means that much to you, I can always come back in three days,” he chuckles. 

Before he can add anything else, she’s in his arms, limbs all over him, and he was wrong. This - _this_ is the moment he starts breathing properly again.

Better than he has in months, really.

Her curls are tickling his face, her scent fills his lungs, her legs are so tight around his waist, it might leave a mark, and Guzman’s never felt better in his whole damn life.

“What are you doing here,” she whispers, softly at first, and then backs ups just enough to look at him, her fingers framing his face. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, acceptable temperatures were becoming kind of boring, so I decided to come enjoy a nice freazing holiday here with you instead.” It’s then that he notices the tears at the corner of her eyes, and his smile fades as he’s about to apologize for being an ass when said eyes light up. 

And then, she’s smiling, and laughing, and God knows he’s never been able to resist that.

He’s not sure who closes the small space left between them first, but Guzmán really couldn’t care less.

He’s kissing her.

He can feel her grin against his lips, her fingers travelling everywhere they can, and then he’s peperring kisses on her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, and she’s holding him tight against her again.

She whispers how much she missed him right into his ear, and all he can do is close his eyes.

That night, they don’t leave his hotel room.

* * *

**7.** The first thing he’s aware of is fingers gently running up his spine, then back down in an even slower motion, the touch light as air. Smiling at the sensation, he moves his head on the pillow, not able to remember a moment these past few years where he’s been so relaxed.

There’s a weigh, then, gently settling on his lower back - light, so light, it could almost be a dream. It’s soft and more than welcomed, just like the kisses that make their way on his bare shoulders, neck and jaw as two arms come to frame his face.

It tickles, and Guzmán chuckles, butterflies waking in his stomach. He feels more safe and comfortable than he ever recall being, and he doesn’t want to move, but he also wants more of her, and so he turns around and draps his arms around her back, bringing her even closer so he can properly kiss her.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like this, his lips lazily moving against hers, but when they stop, she drops a last peck on his mouth, his nose, and a million on his cheek.

Grinning, he finally opens his eyes and meet hers, hovering all perfect with her lose curls and sleepy face over him.

“Hey.”

“Hi. So, how are you liking New-York so far?” and Jesus, she’s shamelessly _grinding_ against him now.

He’s not sure if this is the excitment of their reunion, the fact that all that used to separate them is irrelevant now, or anything else, but she’s been way more daring since he’s been here.

He’s certainly not going to complain.

He flips them over so fast, Nadia can’t help a small scream, and then she’s laughing. His fingers push her wild curls out of her face, and even if he could slap himself for being so sappy, he thinks he’s probably never seen such a beautful sight in his life.

“So far, so good,” and the sounds she makes when he sucks on her neck is probably is new favorite thing now.

“You should cancel your ticklet,” she manages, breathless, and he smiles against her skin with pride before looking back at her.

“Right. And then you’ll miss your exams, I won’t graduate high school _again_ , and we can just stay in this hotel room for the rest of our lives.”

Nadia just nods, unphazed. “Exactly. Should I call the airline then?,” and Guzmán chuckles as he falls on his side.

“My my, miss Shanaa: are you trying to take me off the right path just so we can be alone and naked for eternity? Your father will really be disappointed when I tell him, you know.”

He catches the pillow she throws at his head just in time.

He feels the same though, the idea of leaving in a couple of days already weighing on his chest.

The past few days have been perfect.

Lu’s mother came to spend the holiday with her, having decided that she wanted to see her daughter despite whatever has been going on between her and her father. She’d went on and on about how hypocrite it was of her to change her mind after almost a year of not defending her own blood, but they both could tell Lu was happy to see her mom.

And so, even if they did hang out with Lu a few times, it was mostly just the two of them, celebrating their own version of the holidays, and then the New Year, as they wanted.

He’d brought her gifts from Omar, their friends, her parents (” _You’re really starting to grow on my father, you know? Mom told me.” “Really?” “Mh-mh. He still wants to gut you sometimes apparently, but that’s still progress.”_ ). He brought her one as well, but even though her face lit up and she hadn’t stop wearing it, Guzmán felt pretty shitty about the poor necklace he got her when she gave him her gift.

“I was going to mail it to you,” she had said, almost shy. “It’s not much, but, your mom and Ander agreed to help me, so.”

It was much. Too much, in fact. In one thick album, photos and all kinds of memories from his adoption, and even before that, to his 18th birthday, with hand written notes, drawings. Everything and everyone he loved, his whole life, right there.

It must have taken her hours.

“I love it,” was all he had been able to say.

They went out, of course, being tourists and showing the other places they loved in the city. It was exhalirating, being able to be with her like that.

Free, in a city so wide, so open, where nobody knew them and no one would even think to look at their joined hand the wrong way.

But still, a lot of their time was spent in that hotel room, with endless conversations and gentle touches under the sheets, away from the world’s eyes.

Of course, there was still one thing he had to say, confess, even. He knows he’s pushing it again and again, waiting for the last minute, but he can’t risk it.

Until, that is, she ends it all herself.

He’s coming out of the shower, and he’s texting Samu when she says it.

“Hey, Guzmán?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember - remember when I promised I’d come back for you?”

One second, ten words, and it feels like his heart stops.

He looks up from his phone and at her, cross-legged on the bed in front of her computer. Stressed, he can tell.

And it’s not as if he shouldn’t have seen it coming, really. He should have expected it, taught himself to expect him - but then there was words, and looks, even through an ocean, there was this trip, those nights, her touch, and in the end, Guzmán had believed deep down that maybe, they’d make it work.

That maybe, she’d want to make it work, even if now, she could have everything and every one she wanted.

How he would have wanted that to be true.

He feels himself nodding, and he hopes his face isn’t betraying him, but it’s not like she could see it, anyway, her eyes now fixed on her hands.

“Well, I know I promised, but..I’ve been thinking. Even more so in the past few days, with you here,” and Guzmán tries to breath, despite the punch that seems to hit him right in the gut. It's not much of a success.

“Oh.”

“And maybe - maybe I should have mentioned it sooner, I don’t know, but -” and she’s almost panicking now, and he looks down, has to look away, because he knows this is going to get way too painful, way too fast, and he’s not sure what to do.

_Fuck._

“But I was wondering if you would consider coming to New-York instead.”

Wait - _what?_

His head snaps right back up.

“What?”

She’s said it in one breath, as if almost afraid of her own words, and now she looks like a deer caught in a spotlight, her eyes are so wide. She looks at him for a second - then, starts rambling.

“Yes, I know it’s a lot to ask, and - and I’m not even asking per say, or maybe I am. But I know you’re interested in business courses, and I’ve looked it up, and there’s actually pretty interesting programs here. Columbia has one, but I think the one at New-York University is really good, and I don’t know - worth a look, I guess.”

“Nadia -”

“I almost didn’t say anything, because I know it's huge, and really have no right or legitimacy or - whatever to suggest that," and there's hands gestures now, too. "But I do believe that you could be happy at NYC, and even if I guess we've never really been a couple in the traditionnal senses, I just though - I just thought we’ve been pretty good these past few days, and - ”

“Nadia, of course I’d love to come to New-York.”

That finally shuts her up, which is good, because frankly, he's pretty sure she hadn't caugh her breath for close to a minute now. Then - 

“What?”

Grabbing the piece of paper he'd been holding to for close to two weeks from his coat on the chair, Guzmán hold it up for her to see.

"I know about the NYC program - I've known about it for weeks, in fact, and I didn't know how to bring it up."

They look at each other like two idiots for a couple more seconds because she speaks again, so soft he migh have miss it.

"Really?"

And, just like that, he’s laughing, his face in his hands as he scrunches down to the floor, the panic and tension slowly rolling off his shoulders.

_Jesus._

“God, Nadia, you scared the crap out of me. I thought - "

"You thought what?"

Looking up at her, he pauses for a moment and he can see in her eyes that she has her answer.

Nodding to herself, she chews on her lip, lost in her own thoughts for a second. When she looks back up and motions for him to come closer, Guzmán doesn't argue.

Here they are, her sat at the edge of the bed, him sat at her feet. When she brings her hands down to his face and her forehead against his, he closes his eyes, and feels the fear he's been dragging around for seven months ease off his chest.

"I'm sorry I didn't fight harder for you in high school. I'm sorry I was scared for so long, I'm sorry I believed pretending to be someone else war better for my family, for everyone."

"No, Nadia, you -," but she silences him with a hand on his lips, just like she did one time before, and smiles, her other hand down travelling on his neck.

"I do want to focus on my studies. I do want to make my family proud, and be true to what I believe in. And I will."

Her fingers move from his mouth to his hair now, and they're so close, he can feel her take a breath before her next words."

"But if you're game, I really want to do that with you. You, and no one else."

As she says it, Guzmán realizes that he's been waiting quite litteraly years to hear those words.

Nothing has ever been more worth the wait.

"'If I'm game,' huh?" he finally manages, giving her his best smirk as he feels his chest warming up, threatening to burst open.

"Well, I don't know," she shrugs, playing along. "I hear you've been getting a lot of attention from the new girls in class this years," and he laughs.

"Alright, one girl, annoying as can be by the way, and I'm going to kill Rebeka."

"Oh, Omar and Samu told be, too - they found the whole thing really amusing," and her eyes are laughing now, and really, he doesn't know what he ever done to deserve someone like her.

"Well since apparently you want me to come to New-York, marry me and have all my children, maybe we could try and set her up with - what's his name, Matt?" 

He smiles, proud of himself at her surprise. "That's right - Lu talks too. She thinks you're right to ignore him, apparently I'm much -" 

When Nadia shuts him up with a kiss, he can't say that he minds.

* * *

**8.** February flies by.

It’s funny, how self-motivation can go from high to something he doesn’t even have words for, with just a trip and few magical words.

Then again, he’s never wanted something that much before.

* * *

**9.** Days are more of the same now.

School, swim, work sessions, sleep. Rewind and repeat.

He feels like he’s been making progress with Dr Jimenez, too. He must be thinking it as well, because he tells him and his mom one day, and even if Guzmán rolls his eyes at how proud she is, he's glad.

The Guzmán from just a year ago would have laughed at considering talking to a stranger to get better, but he doesn’t think he would be there without the old man. Marina, the anger, the pain, Polo. The guild. Having trouble sleeping, having even more waking up.

His whole life shattering.

It’s far from being behind him, because it never will be, but now, tomorrow doesn’t seem as bad.

“She wanted to go to Oxford, you know.”

His phone is over the pillow right next to his, and he can hear the small smile in her voice.

_“Yeah, she told me, actually.”_

“I think having Harry Potter scenes shot there was one of the main reasons, though,” and Nadia chuckles.

 _“Don’t be so judgemental, Guzmán: it_ is _one of the greatest stories ever written. I hear New-York University is still better, though.”_ He smiles.

“I guess my choice is made, then.”

There’s a comfortable silence, and he can picture her, laying in bed on her side, finger toying with one of her locks.

 _“Three months,”_ she says softly.

“Three months. If I get in, of course.” He meant it as a joke, but it doesn’t exactly come out this way. Not that this surprises him, really.

The thought is haunting him.

 _“You will,”_ and the determination in her voice brings another small smile on his face.

“Yeah?”

_“Of course.”_

That night, he’s the one who falls asleep first.

* * *

**10.** Nadia was right - he gets in.

* * *

**11.** His home has turned into a mad house.

Him, he’s fine - it’s really unlikely he won’t pass his exams, and now that he knows for sure that he’s accepted at NYU, the weigh is off his chest and thrown very, very far away.

Apparently, that’s not the case for everyone.

All of his grand-parents come together to buy him an appartment in New-York City (which, of course, gives ways to numerous jokes from the band, which he can’t really tackle down).

Ever since that big announcement, his Mom has been all over it. It feels like there isn’t a day that passes by without mention of furniture, decoration, and everything that they’ll have to do when they get there. At diner, his father jokes that she’s going overboard because she’s still not over the fact that her little boy’s becoming a man, but Guzmán can see the way his father looks at him a little longer than necessary, too, notices the claps on the back that come more often than usual.

He knows how hard for them to have another child leave the house, and he’s grateful they’re on his side anyway.

Nadia’s been stressed, too. He keeps telling her that her first semester has gone great, because it did, and that she’s going to rock the second, because she will, but he notices the bag under her eyes, the anxiety in her voice.

She still has the energy to roll her eyes whenever he asks her whether she’s eaten or not, so that’s something.

* * *

**12.** As predicted, the exams are not fun, but boy, do they make up for it when they celebrate the end of it that last Friday.

When he wakes up the next morning, with somehow Ander next to him and Samu snoring by their feet at the end of the bed, he sincerely thinks his head is going to explode.

A few minutes later, Samu is throwing up in his bathroom and Ander’s just a ball among the sheets, muttering something about never drinking again, but damn it, it was worth it.

Nadia’s still not done with her term exams, so he doesn’t want to go on about all the fun that they had, and how damn happy they are that everything’s finally over, but she makes fun of his hangover face and asks him to tell her everything.

She’s still laughing at a video of her brother and Samuel when he feels one of that rushes again, just looking at her face.

“I can’t wait to see you,” he says out of the blue, and she looks back up at him, her smile now softer.

_“Me too.”_

His heart skips a beat at the look in her eyes, and Guzmán can’t help his smile.

Ten more days.

* * *

**12 + 1 week.** It feels weird, being here.

Graduation had never really been something he’d given much thoughts about in the past, but nothing about this one was what something he'd ever have guessed.

Thirteen year-old him would never have imagined finishing school without Marina or Polo, for example. How ridiculous would that have been, right.

It’s okay, though. It has to be.

He’s got Ander, and Samu and Omar and Rebe. The girl he loves comes back home in two days, and then they spend one month in the sun before boarding for their new life in one of the greatest cities in the world. None of this he had imagined, either, but this is good, and he knows he has to focus on that.

His mom fixes his shirt for the hundreth time, and he makes fun of her to dry the unshed tears in her eyes. Her smile is a victory.

“I’m proud of you, _cariño_.”

“I hope so - let’s not pretend you ever thought I’d rock things _this_ much.”

“Then again, you were supposed to graduate a year ago,” his father says, an evil smile on his face, and his mother chuckles. 

Guzmán just shrugs, leaving a kiss on her cheek. “Minor detail, Dad. Go on, you have to get to your seats now.”

And seat they do, and graduate he does.

There’s smiles and whistles and cheers, and by the time it’s his turn to go up there, his throat hurts from yelling so much for the band. When he looks out to the cheering crowd, though, his voice leaves him for a whole other reason.

It takes him a second (and the laughing faces of Ander and Samu, apparently very amused) to realize that he’s standing there like a opened mouth idiot, but franckly, he doesn’t really care.

By the time he has his diploma in hands and has joined the others at the back of the stage, his grin is so big, he’s pretty sure he’s going to break his face.

He’s not sure what exactly goes on after that, because he only has eyes for her.

+

“And drink! I told you you shouldn’t test me on that, Shanaa,” and Omar just flips him off and drinks up.

He’s still showing off when she draps her arms around his neck, dropping one kiss behind his ear, and one his jaw as she settles down in the sand behind him. 

Guzmán bends his head to look up at her, an intoxicated smile on his face that is only partially caused by alcohol. Threading his fingers into her curls, he brings her down to give her a proper kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiles, gently nuzzling him.

“Your brother’s losing,” and Omar just groans as he finally finishes his beer with Ander’s mocking cheer.

“And your boyfriend is an asshole.”

“To his credit, he did told us he was a master at this particular drinking game,” Samu emphases, which just earns him a push on the sand from Omar.

The game last for another half hour before Ander decides it’s time to let the newly reunited lovers alone, and the three of them head closer to the bonfire to dance with most of the others.

The whole promo is here, the waves sing underneath a sky of a million stars, the party is gone to last until the mrorning, and Guzmán figures that’s probably the best graduation party they could have.

They watch the poor, losing Omar cheer up and move around as best as he can, Nadia’s arms warm around him. 

“There’s a good chance you broke my brother, you know,” and he snorts.

“Eh, you heard Samu: I _did_ warn him,” and she shakes her head as she watches said brother jump on Rebeka’s back, happy as could be.

His attention is on her, though. 

Fingers coming to intertwine with hers on his chest, Guzmán leans a little more into her, and drop a kiss on her jaw. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Nadia looks back at him, then, the fire making her eyes shine in the night, and she drops an hundreth kiss on his nose, her legs tightening around his body, holding him close.

It’s both reassuring and thrilling, to know she need as much contact as he does.

“Well, you got to surprise me and watch me have a small seizure - it was only fair I got to do the same, really.”

“Nice one, by the way: my father as a close-up picture of my face he threatens to blackmail me with, so really, thank you,” he says ironically, not mad in the least.

When she speaks again, she's still smiling, but he can see the sincerity behind her eyes, knowing they're talking about something else now.

"Any regret?"

With a smile, Guzmán reaches up for her again. "None."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading, folks. If you want to see more, or just say hi, my tumblr is nicehijab


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